Time Froze
by Doriana101
Summary: Sabine's need for Ezra's presence is thrown into sharp relief while Ezra grapples with the Jedi doctrine surrounding love, against the backdrop of a dramatic reunion. Romantic, internal dialogue-focused oneshot. Older Ezra and Sabine, circa 0 BBY-3 ABY
**A/N Hi, all! This was originally intended for Valentine's Day, but life happens. Hey, at least it's here now. For those of you familiar with my other work, this story does not exist within the same continuity as _Each of Us Has Heaven and Hell in Him_ , but maybe _Travel Companions_ , if you want it to. As a rule of thumb, none of my work connects unless I explicitly state that it does.**

 **For those of you who are not familiar with my work, head over to my profile and check out my other stuff, if you feel like it. I have two other Ezrabine stories, both multi-chap.**

 **Rated T for very mild sensuality (I'm just a little overcautious). Contains a mention of a spoiler for the Season 2 Finale.**

 **Thanks for reading, turn on "Lovesong" by Adele, and enjoy!**

* * *

Sabine sat in her cabin, back to the door, facing her viewport. Although her cabin and the dockingbay were on opposite sides of the cruiser, watching outside of the window was the only way she could appease her anxious mind. Predictably, she did not catch side of any incoming traffic, but still she sat, gazing into the myriad of bright lights juxtaposed by cold blackness. It gave her mind something to do, besides scrolling aimlessly through her datapad. Every time she heard muffled voices outside of her quarters, her heart skipped a beat. Every time she heard the crisp clack of boots on polished floor, her stomach lurched.

 _Three weeks_. It had been three weeks since Ezra's lean frame had filled her doorway, since his voice echoed through her small quarters. The Jedi Knight had been dispatched on an assignment, along with a small squadron of rebels, but after one week, Ezra's team became unresponsive. With each passing day, Sabine's trepidation grew. She tried to keep busy, even leading a few relief missions, but as the second week came to a close, she could stand it no longer. When she inquired with Bail Organa, the only response she was given was a cold, terse, _It's none of your concern, Commander_. She persisted, finally being given a strict reprimand for prying into a mission that was outside of her jurisdiction. Outside of the briefing room, Kanan had informed her that he sensed Ezra was still alive. The blind Jedi Master gave her a fatherly pat on the shoulder, and promised to tell her if he sensed otherwise. She had never specifically told him the nature of she and his former apprentice's relationship, but she could tell that he knew. If Kanan knew, that meant Hera did, as well. However, she and Ezra had tried to hide their relationship from the rest of the Alliance.

Sabine sighed, rubbing her forehead, exhausted. She had reached the point of every night which she dreaded, when she had to decide whether or not to forfeit her vigil and go to sleep. Over a short sleeping tunic, she had wrapped herself in one of his spare Jedi robes. It was not that she particularly liked the coarse, thick fabric, but it reminded her of him. It even smelled like him, that familiar, indescribable scent that set her heart racing and made her a tangible wave of heartache sweep over her. Her eyes wandered to her comlink, which was sitting beside her on her bunk. Kanan had promised that he would alert her if he sensed Ezra had died, but somehow, Sabine doubted that he would be able to deliver the grim news. For the thousandth time in the past three weeks, Sabine wished she had Force abilities. Ezra had told her that when their roles were reversed, when he was the one left on the dismal cruiser, he could reach into the Force and sense her. She had often envied his connection to the ancient energy field, but never more than in this moment.

Finally, Sabine admitted defeat, moving away from her viewport and slipping his robe from her shoulders. She climbed into her lonely bunk, draping his robe over her like a blanket. Again, her eyes were drawn to her comlink. She was tempted to contact Hera, just to hear her mentor's comforting voice and reassuring words. She would understand: Hera had doubtlessly spent many nights like this, when Kanan was held captive by The Empire at the beginning of the rebellion. Still, Sabine was afraid that if she did use her comlink, she would miss Kanan's news that Ezra had been lost.

Lying alone, Sabine tried to coax her mind into falling asleep, but thoughts tumbled over and over in her head. She tried to assure herself that if Ezra did return, he had the access code to her quarters and would enter on his own. It was more of their quarters, anyway, even though it only hers on official records. After all, they had been joined together in the traditional Mandalorian marriage vows half a year prior, although it was a secret that they alone shared. She stared up at the ceiling, thinking again of contacting Hera. Or maybe Zeb, or Ketsu, or even that little fiend Chopper. Anyone to break the awful silence that hung over her quarters like a thick, heavy burial shroud. Still, she could not call on any of them without the risk of missing Kanan's alert.

Sabine realized that sleep was never going to find her. She stood, turning on the lights, and walked to the center of the room. She sat down, crossing her ankles and resting her hands on her knees. Ezra had tried to teach her to meditate, and even though she did not have any sort of Force connection, the practice calmed her. She inhaled deeply, trying to slowly empty her mind of any anxious thoughts. When this did not work, she briefly considered painting. This had been her form of escape since she was a child, but the last thing she needed was another reprimand from her superiors. They had told her that if she painted the walls of her cabin one more time, she would be forced to acquire a roommate, and of course, her husband was not a candidate, considering the fact that their entire relationship was hidden from The Alliance.

All of the sudden, Sabine's comlink chirped, and she felt as though all of the blood had been drained from her limbs. She leapt up, scrambling to retrieve it, when the door to her quarters slid open.

There he was. Battered, singed, scarred, but _alive_. There was a moment in which time froze, and then they collided with one another. He held her so tightly that her feet left the floor, and she pressed her face against his neck, trying to convince herself that he was tangible, that he was not on some far-flung planet, but with her.

"I've missed you so much," Sabine whispered, before he pressed his lips against hers in a desperate kiss, one that expressed all of the fear and longing and restlessness that they had both experienced over the course of the past three weeks.

After a moment, Sabine pulled away, her hand still resting on his cheek. Beneath her fingers, his skin felt hot, and when she moved her hand, a new scar was revealed. It was the thin, cauterized mark of a lightsaber, stretching from just beneath his ear to halfway down his neck.

"Oh, Ezra," Sabine breathed, surveying the wound, "You need to get to the medbay."

"I wanted to see you," he whispered, kissing her again, "Don't worry-I'm alright."

"Are you sure?" She asked, gently tracing the scar with her fingertip.

He nodded. "I just want to be with you."

* * *

The air conditioning unit above Sabine's single bunk quietly hummed to life, sending a soft, cool breeze down to Ezra's cheekbones. It did at the halfway point of every night, he had come to notice. On the field, it was these small, familiar things that the Jedi came to miss most: The hair-dye stains that refused to wash out of Sabine's sheets, the scent of paint that permeated the space, the way her bed creaked softly when she tossed about in her sleep. It was these components that made her quarters feel like home. And, of course, Sabine herself.

She was asleep now, her eyelashes delicately resting against her cheeks, her lips softly parted. She had appropriated half of his body, her head resting on his chest, her leg hooked around both his his. He brushed her varicolored hair aside, gently pressing his lips against her forehead, not moving for several moments. He shut his eyes, allowing her Force presence to flood his senses. He had thought of her every second they were separated, the wavering imprint of her spirit in the Force growing fainter the further he travelled away from her.

Sometimes, Ezra was selfishly glad to have been born into this era, despite the oppressive regime of The Empire. Two decades earlier, he and Sabine never could have been together, let alone been married, due to the strict, apathetic doctrines of the Jedi Order. A millennia earlier, the Jedi Knight and Mandalorian would have been killing each other. Or would they? Was their compatibility solely based in the era in which they were born? Or would their spirits, which thrived together, have somehow found each other?

" _Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum_ , _"_ Sabine whispered, in the twilight state between wakefulness and sleep. It was a phrase she had spoken to him many times before: It translated to 'I love you' in her native language.

To think that the Jedi of old never got to experience these things. Had Ezra been born prior to the Clone Wars, he would have never known passion or love, or even the most baseline emotion of affection. And why? Simply because sentients who never experienced love themselves believed it was the will of an ancient, mystical energy? Alone with his own musings, he wondered why the Force had chosen to manifest itself within him. Sometimes, he even resented the mystical Force: He was burdened with a great power, for which he did not ask. He was expected to act purge himself of human emotion, but yet uphold ideals of justice and peace. How could these ideals even exist without emotion?

But to give into emotion was to know the Darkside. Ezra had experienced a brush with darkness on more than one occasion, and he was fully aware of the intense feelings that tortured the Sith. But surely there was something between the cold detachment of the Jedi and the all-consuming passion of Sith? Non-Force sensitive beings lived out their days in a space between the two, and surely Ezra could as well? Again, he felt resentful of the ancient power source: He was held to a standard to which he had never agreed, simply because the Force chose to manifest itself within him.

Ezra sighed, causing Sabine stir but not awaken. On a few dark occasions, he had considered turning his back on the Jedi, in favor of Sabine. Ahsoka had been able to do it, for a different reason, but nonetheless, she demonstrated that it was possible to find a place between the Lightside and the Dark. Still, the Force was a blessing and a curse: If he did turn his back on the Jedi, he would always be haunted by a gift that he possessed but never used. A gift that was quite possibly the only thing that could bring down Darth Vader.

Ironically, a Jedi teaching slipped into his thoughts: _Stay in the moment_. He had spent three weeks longing to lay beside Sabine, and now he was squandering it, allowing himself to get caught up in the archaic, self-contradictory doctrines of the Jedi Order. In that moment, it did not matter that Ezra was defying one of the core principles of Jedi philosophy, it did not matter whether he chose to remain a Jedi Knight or not. All that mattered was that they were together, lying beside each other once more, safe. And soon, Ezra fell asleep.

* * *

 **A/N No, the S2 finale spoiler wasn't that Sabine and Ezra are married. You wish though, right? ;)**


End file.
